Darkened Corner
by Laeta
Summary: Happy Anniversary to the HC list! [HC] Calleigh blinked lazily, smiled in the same mood, and forgot her embarrassment. This was Horatio, after all. He would catch her before she fell he would die before she hurt.
1. 1 of 2

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully by now everybody knows _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, b8kworm, and Sun Mee. This is my attempt to explain why we've been deprived of so many promised Horatio/Calleigh scenes this season. Okay, not the | truth |, but the conspicuous lack of scenes as compared to Season 1. Have I mentioned how much I love my betas? Well, I do.

Summary: Calleigh blinked lazily, smiled in the same mood, and forgot her embarrassment. This was Horatio, after all. He would catch her before she fell; he would die before she hurt.

Rating: PG

Archive(s): EoTU, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler(s): Most of Season 2.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Darkened Corner

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

Chapter 1

She did not need to glance at her watch or at the display of her cell phone or the multitude of clocks dotting the walls to know. A quick rummage into her purse gave her all the incentive she needed and she left her bench without a backwards glance of regret.

Glass walls permeated the entire lab, but, in this isolated spot, the walls were opaque. Reflective vertical panels multiplied the intensity from the recessed lighting that unified all the passageways. Nothing echoed here because soft, non-intrusive carpeting muffled telltale footfalls.

There was no way Calleigh would describe the lab as cozy, yet this particular corner had all the earmarks. The sole requirement to satisfy her hedonistic side was something of feathered down - and horizontal. Even with the lack, she would trade nothing for perfection.

The path was so routine to her; after three years of descending the same stairwells and of avoiding the usual water coolers and of following the well laid corridors, her heart surprised her once again in its eager race to the finish.

Reaching the physical destination, she gave a token tap on glass before sliding the bi-fold doors open. Here was her sanctuary in the busy world of the sleepless lab; the privately situated public phone booth gave her the luxury of pretense she sometimes so desperately sought.

One hand reached for the receiver; the other to her back pocket where the stolen treasure from her purse had hid itself. It was a phone card of some infamous landmark embossed into the plastic surface. A glance at her watch in the dim light showed her exactly twenty minutes; her heart raced happily.

It was an odd thing to collect, for sure, but she enjoyed it. Instead of expensive crystals or jewelry, her friends sent her phone cards; each one priceless in its uniqueness. As she dialed a number, she studied the image and settled in for a cheerful chat, giddiness fading in the face of nostalgia.

She was a self-admitted homebody; she called home twice a week - an increase from the bi-monthly calls that preceded the sniper incident. She used that regularity to insinuate her voice into her siblings' lives. As for her friends - high school and college - who diligently fed her supply of phone cards, she spoke with them every few months.

She had been asked, once upon a time, why she avoided long distance plans for her home phone and her wireless phone. The reasons were simple. Her wireless phone did not give her the clarity of voice she wanted; as for the other, well, suffice it to say that she was rarely home.

Eight thirty-seven and she was well on her way to bringing the conversation to a gentle close. Well-timed for her heart abruptly announced its intention to skip a few beats when the minute turned.

The receiver joined rather rudely to the base when the expected, gentle sound of notice came. Accordingly, her heart sunk into an easily recoverable form of arrhythmia and Calleigh sighed in exasperation. She stood in the small space, tucked the phone card back into her pocket, and briefly wondered what sort of conversation it would be.

They had two kinds: the first - light, flirty, characterized by laughter; there were precious few of these in recent months. The second had a touch of perpetual urgency; she tasted bitterness and resignation one too many times. Flipping a coin mentally, she bet on the latter. They always happened when necessity kept Horatio far from her.

Shrugging slightly at the connections brought to mind, the coin touched down and showed she was right. Her evidence? Well, she always needed evidence; it lay in the fact that she had not seen him in a few days because their caseloads had her lab-bound and Horatio never passed a chance for the freedom of fieldwork.

Heart nearly normal, she reversed her motion from earlier and stepped out into the dark hallway. There he was, in all his glory, leaning against the opposite wall to her phone booth. Shoulder propped against it, head bent as he studiously avoided her eyes. A sight so typical lately, she wished there were no one else in the world if it meant his burdens would ease.

So, Calleigh slid into her own customary stance: she took a small side-step to bring her directly across him and hooked her thumbs into her pockets. The picture of casual, she leaned her back against the wall and looked expectantly across the small corridor.

Letting him pass on the option of initiator, she greeted him: "Hey there, stranger."

Dimples made a quick but telling show in response to her humor. Changing only the angle of his head, he let down enough barriers to allow Calleigh to see the truth: exhaustion - plain to her, surprising to others. Yet he sought her for a reason; she knew Horatio well enough to know he would come to it at the most poignant moment.

It was why she was not put off by his circuitous question.

"How are you, Calleigh?"

Her heart hammered to give him goodness, however little it was.

"Well, first things first, Sandra finally got her wedding date fixed."

"Good for her." There was the barest of pauses, but Calleigh caught it anyway. "Shall I put in for the vacation time now?"

"That depends on if she sends me an invitation." Her smile could melt glass if it wanted.

Horatio did not see the mirth. "I don't see why she wouldn't."

"You didn't."

He was the absolutely perfect picture of confusion.

"You didn't send me an invitation to your birthday party."

"I didn't have one."

"Exactly. You gypped me out of a good time."

And she finally had Horatio Caine loose and relaxed; his laughter flowed effortlessly into the still air of this forgotten corner of the crime lab. Calleigh decided that she would forgo the horizontal surface if it meant hearing his honey coated laughter.

Then, something happened that never happened previously - ever.

Horatio shifted from somber to flirtatious. His hands dropped from their closed position across his chest to his hips: "I'm open," he declared with the switch. One step, two steps, and he was so close; Calleigh rescinded her opinion on the feathered down.

She had to tip her head back to maintain eye contact and watched in fascination as one hand reached out to brace his weight against the wall supporting her. He gave her the choice to repel him, but she never would. His breath tickled her ear when he spoke.

"I've missed you."

Undeterred by the rush in her body, she could not resist the bubbling sarcasm. "Now whose fault would that be?"

"If I take the blame, what would that mean for me?"

Calleigh gasped. Who was this Horatio and where was hers? She was so dazed that she nearly pushed him away; then she saw the challenge in his eyes. Sparkling with intent, they brazenly demanded what her Horatio would never - he was too good, but this alter ego could - and did.

This was what Horatio had been moving inexorably towards since he first appeared in the hallway after one of her calls. In this darkened corner, which gave neither him nor her the advantage, he showed her what few would ever see: the side of himself roused by deepest of emotions.

Simmering beneath a thick surface, there was a lifetime of anger, which fueled his desire for justice. There was an enormous well of love that tempered anger. There was devotion, constancy, and the flipside to the charm he used daily. This sinful charm of his burned a favorable impression in Calleigh as it rubbed her just the right way, and she watched as her arousal unmasked its partner in Horatio.

"So?" he prompted her again, no longer tentative about his reception.

"That you're one hundred percent male." She winked, tempting him with the edge of sexual heat.

***** ***** *****  
© RK 01.Mar.2004


	2. 2 of 2

Disclaimer: It's been a year; hopefully by now everybody knows _CSI: Miami_ does not belong to me.

Author's Note: For Mr. Hathaway, b8kworm, and Sun Mee. This is my attempt to explain why we've been deprived of so many promised Horatio/Calleigh scenes this season. Okay, not the | truth |, but the conspicuous lack of scenes as compared to Season 1. Have I mentioned how much I love my betas? Well, I do.

Summary: Calleigh blinked lazily, smiled in the same mood, and forgot her embarrassment. This was Horatio, after all. He would catch her before she fell; he would die before she hurt.

Rating: PG

Archive(s): EoTU, Lonely Road, mine. Anybody else, email me.

Pairing(s): Horatio/Calleigh

Spoiler(s): Most of Season 2.

***** ***** ***** 

Title: Darkened Corner

Author: Laeta  
Email: ladylaeta@yahoo.com

Chapter 2

"Were you in any doubt before?"

"I believe that's open to some debate," she said on a laugh.

He leaned closer by lowering his arm so his stance imitated his earlier one. Calleigh narrowed her eyes in open speculation as his hand brushed too casually against her body. Meanwhile, his other arm snuck around her waist and brought her body neatly into Horatio's personal space.

Calleigh's mind scrambled to assimilate: first, nothing ever entered his space; he was too controlled for that to happen. Second, she had something wrong - and it was actually he who had entered hers. Third, she found herself back-pedaling into the enclosed sanctuary of the phone booth.

No sooner were the doors closed than his cologne overwhelmed her. One hand still about her waist, the other drifted lazily - out of sight, out of mind. His breathing was loud in the silence, seductive in its appeal.

Her eyes drifted closed and she imagined an infinite number of scenarios within these private confines, knowing Horatio would hold her secret to the grave. She knew he was right there with her in the fantasies; his own body gave him away. His voice pleaded to her; it sounded so foreign, a far cry from the smoothness she knew. Her eyes opened and focused in the indistinct light.

Somehow, that gave him all the confidence he needed.

"Calleigh, where'd you go?" The inflection of his voice sent her on a one way trip directly back.

"Dreaming." She sighed the word on his growing smile.

"Stay with me here."

Calleigh blinked lazily, smiled in the same mood, and forgot her embarrassment. This was Horatio, after all. He would catch her before she fell; he would die before she hurt.

Besides, he had given her an incredible gift of himself and it was her choice to accept or to reject. Who was she fooling anyway?

So, she advanced on Horatio and altered their positions. Her arms crept up his chest and curled about his neck; fingers explored in tantalizing patterns.

"How about I tell you," she invited with a smirk. "Comfortable?"

He nodded. The casing of the phone's base unit dug uncomfortably into his back but, in the interest of their situation, it did not register to him at all. He ignored everything save the woman wrapped along his body.

Calleigh glared at the telephone sternly. "Don't you dare consider ringing, got that?"

She returned her gaze to Horatio, gratified to see a smile had reached his eyes. He expressed a soundless question that made Calleigh more than a little self-conscious. However, she had started things and she would finish them.

"I don't like interruptions," she stated, lack of comfort coloring her voice flippant.

"Are you expecting any?"

"Are you?" she countered.

Horatio made a point of unclipping his cell phone off his belt and turning it off. He gave it to Calleigh who placed it near its landline counterpart.

Two words, "Come here," and she snuggled into the warm embrace of a helpless man. His hand drifted languidly through her hair; she recognized the aura of pensive thoughts brooding like storm clouds around his head. She reached up to lightly touch his face, succeeding in dispelling the dark halo crowned there.

"Case that bad, Horatio?"

He sank onto the hard plastic seat of the phone booth in response. She tucked him gently against her body to give him as much comfort as she could.

"I could really use you on this one."

"Yep, that bad," she said, dryly. Now, it was her hand in his hair that soothed. Unexpectedly, she instigated herself in his lap, nuzzling into his broad shoulder. "Hmm, I miss this."

He laughed, cheerful once again as she alluded not so subtly to their nights, which held such a plethora of pleasant memories.

"Will you be waiting for me tonight?"

"Who are you trying to kid here? I'm going home with you tonight."

He laughed. "Is that so?"

"You can bet your life on it." She looped her arm about his neck and held his gaze. "This way, as I drive home, you can tell me all about this case of yours. So -" She drew out the syllable as she leaned into him and captured his ear. Her words were decisively seductive: "The rest of our night is free."

Predictably, his hands brought her body flush to his. He savored her quiet gasp of surprise.

"Calleigh, much as I'd like to, I may be here for a while yet."

She grinned at him. "Oh, I'm counting on it. I plan on getting as many comparisons done as I can before tomorrow." She wagged a finger at him. "That means no interrupting; you know how I feel about that. Just call when you're ready to leave."

Instantly deprived of his fun, he epitomized contrition. "You don't need to do this for me. I love you for it, but you don't need to."

"Horatio, do you or do you not want me on this case?"

"Oh, I want."

"Good. Give me until noon tomorrow; then, I'm all yours."

Neither missed the dual conversation they held. They grinned at each other before Calleigh retrieved Horatio's phone from the ledge while expertly ejecting Horatio from the cozy phone booth and led the way back to their normal offices.

As she parted from him, Calleigh tartly said, "And, Horatio? Get your mind out of the gutter."

His laughter followed her into the ballistics arena as did his words: "Be ready in three hours." She smiled; tonight would be a good one, she could tell already.

FIN

***** ***** *****  
© RK 17.Mar.2004


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